Virus Part I
by Kouji
Summary: Based around John Allerdyce, and own characters. Sometimes a virus can strike, when you least expect.


Disclaimer: Sjena 'Ghost', Mia Kolinski, Michael 'Marvel Boy' Ayo, Yuki  
Dajaku, and Vièn 'Virus' Vukovic are © to me  
  
Anariel 'Eboneko' Nostradamius is © to Anna  
John 'Pyro' Allerdyce, and all other Original X-Men characters are © to  
Marvel Comics  
  
Nothing in this fan fiction has anything to do with anything that happens  
in the movies or comics. Whatever happens in this story, affects no  
circumstances in either. It is all my imagination, and my unhealthy  
obsession of John Allerdyce and Aaron Stanford.  
  
Virus  
  
Part One  
  
Prologue  
  
10:28 pm St. Peters Cathedral 2003  
  
The Cathedral was a quiet place to be at night. It's tall spires reached towards the vast sky, clouded from a recent storm. Slowly small specks of stars were beginning to appear, fighting their battle to shine their light on the Earth. Not that it would have done much, seeing as the world was a place of turmoil. There was no equality, no such word. Dog-eat-dog. Only the strongest survive- all that jazz. Humans seemed to think that enough; they always had, and probably always would. Some, however, were not quite human. A few zephyrs danced melodically amongst the towers, massive stained-glass windows flecked with cracks. A historic place, for historic happenings. Though it would be very surprising if this certain occurrence were ever even noticed. Candles flickered in the dim light at the alter, Jesus staring out at the Church from his place perched on his cross, his omnipresent being holding the Cathedral in it's might. However, despite his never-ending logic and even greater intelligence, Jesus was not able to ready himself for what would happen next. So subtle, yet so dramatic, was the entrance of the newcomer. The massive doors swung open, creaking with strained age as they did so. Soft moonlight illuminated the aisle, the great silver sliver just managing to push behind the clouds. Heavy footfalls echoed off the empty walls, littered with paintings, sculptures and anything else that may appeal anyone Catholic. Small drops of dark liquid dropped hesitantly to the floor, landing with a soft splatter. The figure stood, one arm holding the other, and that holding an immense, and impressive, sword. The shadow's head was low, crimson and obsidian stained hair-casting darkness across its face. The form moved forward, a silent, dragging walk, taking them down the aisle. They looked somewhat. proud. walking there, in the middle of Saint Peters Cathedral in the roughed up part of New York. A stereotypical black coat adorned their back, falling easily over their panted legs, just towards the large combat boots that ceased to make sound as the shape came to a halt. Blood trailed dispassionately down the figure's neck, towards an already growing patch on their shirt. Gloved hands dropped the sword, and it fell with a clatter on the now stained carpet. The silhouette tilted its head up towards the statue of Jesus on his cross, the candlelight reflecting off clichéd dark glasses. It was now obvious to see, that in fact, this form was a woman. More like a girl, however, her features young, yet undefined. She didn't smile, only stared, for a long while which seemed like forever. Covered eyes turned away then, at a small sound from outside that seemed to yank her out of her reverie. They fell, oddly enough, on the confession booths. She turned, almost mechanically towards them.  
  
The girl sat there, staring down at her hands. The booth was empty, except for her bloodied form. A frown furrowed her brow, and parched lips parted in speech. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."  
  
The words faded. No one answered. A cold caw echoed from the top of Saint Peters Cathedral. A Raven spread it's wings, and flew away into the shadows.  
  
* * *  
  
Chapter One  
  
Time's Up  
  
The squeal of sneakers against polished floors reverberated across the inside Basketball courts, followed by the constant roar of a not-so large crowd. Maybe only. three people watching? But still, they sure made as much sound as a football stadium filled with hyperactive three year olds. The timer beeped away silently, green numbers counting down the two- minute limit. Five boys played together, wearing the same black team singlets, then four girls wearing red. Black number two screeched past red number five, reaching for the ball as she dribbled easily down the court, yanked it, and threw it to black number six. Black number thirteen was busy smiling flirtatiously to one girl in the three in the crowd, and in return was given a waving middle finger, and a basketball to the head.  
  
"Ah! Sorry John!" Shouted red number five, as black number thirteen, otherwise known as John, rubbed his forehead grumpily, a few strands coming loose of his slicked back brown hair and hanging over his sweaty forehead. The game continued quickly, each player except red number five heaving with the effort of keeping up with her.  
  
Red score.  
  
Black score.  
  
- -  
  
Danger Room  
  
Panting, almost out of breath, Mia Kolinski sped rapidly through the Danger Room, the Room set to Simulated Danger. She versed Yuki Dajaku, the boy with much of an attitude problem, who could manipulate wind currents. Come on. such a push over. She took care of him easily, smirking.  
  
- -  
  
"Anariel! Here!" One of the reds shouted to number five. She obliged, and threw the ball to her teammate, who scored an easy goal while the boys were busy trying to keep on Anariel, as was her name. Michael Ayo, black number three, bent over, breathing hard. Why he had offered to play was beyond him, but his asthma was stopping him from doing any better. The ball dashed past him, followed by John Allerdyce, Bobby Drake, Yuki Dajaku and Alan Flash. Number thirteen skidded, number eleven followed, however Yuki was unable to stop in time and ended up sending all three sprawling. Anariel grinned at this opportunity, snatched the ball, and scored yet another goal.  
  
Red: 4 Black: 3  
  
- -  
  
Danger Room  
  
Mia flashed around the Danger Room, her ability to reach up to extreme speeds coming in handy. The lights flickered momentarily, and Mia screeched to a stop, grey eyes widening. The Simulation had disappeared, spines of silver metal jutting from the walls. Spires of spikes suddenly shot up from the ground, whirring, churning. To Mia, however, this was just another Simulation.  
  
- -  
  
Bobby scored the blacks a goal. The three cheerers let out a roar of appreciation.  
  
- -  
  
Danger Room  
  
Mia winced as a spike sliced the skin on her arm. She held it for a moment, feeling the hot sticky crimson liquid seeping from it. The Simulation was over- and the real game had begun.  
  
- -  
  
Kitty Pryde scored a goal for the reds. One of the crowd, obviously male, wolf-whistled.  
  
- -  
  
Danger Room  
  
Mia felt herself losing. Clothes were tattered. Mind was shreds.  
  
"Stop!" She screamed. The lights flickered. But the Danger Room didn't listen.  
  
- -  
  
Yuki snatched the ball from one of the reds, tripped, and managed to score. Somehow.  
  
- -  
  
Danger Room  
  
Mia banged on the Danger Room hatch, screaming for help. No one heard. The spikes grew ever closer. Grey eyes glanced back at them, inches away.  
  
- -  
  
John smirked to himself as he dribbled the ball down the court. If he could score this one, another game to the blacks. Anariel, however was close on his tail. Michael behind her. John cast a momentarily glance back at them, before trying his luck and shooting for the ring. The room was silent as the ball rolled precariously on the metal ring, pondering whether to drop into the net or fall off the other side.  
  
- -  
  
Danger Room  
  
The silver, deadly spikes churned hard into Mia's back. A scream answered the assault.  
  
- -  
  
The ball, finally deciding, dropped into the net, winning the game.  
  
"Hah-HAH!" John crowed mightily, a loud beeping sound coming from the timer. 0:00. Time was up. John glanced proudly up at it, Anariel looking quite disgruntled at their loss. She, of course, was one of the best basketball players around. Marie, having been sitting on the sidelines, gave Bobby a high-five, her hand still gloved. John watched them, his smile fading slightly. Yuki was watching Michael and Anariel talk, a glowering look on his face, blonde bangs hanging messily over his face. John glanced towards him, rubbing his forehead from the sweat, and left the small group to mingle on their own accord. Unlike him to give up such a time to bathe in what he liked to call praise, but something was on his mind. Something nagging away at a clouded box, hidden beneath mists of.  
  
"HELP!" A cry stopped his thinking short. He halted in the hall, his basketball Singlet half off, the grey shirt underneath wet with sweat. John stared down the hall, a soft sound reaching his ears. The smell of brimstone made his nose wrinkle, but John broke into a trot towards the cry. Soon enough, he heard other feet pounding against floor. The cries of others calling for help led him on, down the stairs, to a part in the Institute where he had only been once. And even then he wasn't really noticing what was going on around him. He came to an abrupt halt now, amber eyes contracting smaller of what he saw. The Danger Room's hatch had opened barely, a crowd gathered around it. Dark liquid dribbled across the silver floor, beneath some feet, curving around quietly, sickeningly. Someone shoved past him. He didn't seem to notice as he staggered to the side. The crowd parted for the tall man to get through, dark brown hair spiked into two parts, quite resembling cat-like ears. For that brief moment, as the crowd parted, John saw the bloodied, limp body lying half out of the Danger Room. Blue, silver streaked hair hung in a mess, tattered and bloodied. Eyes were closed, but John knew who it was. That girl. That girl who had been so friendly to him, when he had 'accidentally' set the English lecture room a light, whereas everyone else had treated him like some psycho Pyro- maniac. Ok, so he WAS a Pyro-maniac, but that didn't mean they had to treat him that way.  
  
"Mia." He mumbled beneath his breath, not even noticing as the taller man rushed past him, the bloodied girl in his arms. He felt a gloved hand on his shoulder; saw Bobby and Marie standing beside him. But then again, he didn't. This reminded him all to well of his past.  
  
- -  
  
Back in the basketball courts, Michael and Anariel sat talking, having not heard the cries, thanks to how deeply engrossed they were in talk. The timer beeped, but they didn't look up. Green numbers flashed, becoming letters for a brief moment.  
  
T I M E ' S  
U P 


End file.
